Darkness in the Light
by Autumn FireSpirit
Summary: Celebrimbor should have known trusting Annatar had been the wrong choice from the start. (minor scene insert)


**Darkness in the Light  
**

_**by Autumn_FireSpirit**_

Setting: Second Age 1200

Main characters: Celebrimbor, Annatar (Sauron).

Note: Please forgive the errors riddled in texts, I am still looking for a beta.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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"Who are you?"

They do not often get visitors in Eregion, of course, unless it was their usual who came and go, but such people do not ask questions, especially regarding his past.

"Annatar, Lord of the Gifts." The stranger answered. Celebimbor eyes him suspiciously.

This Annatar appeared by the gates of Eregion one day and demanded entry, offering to teach the people of Eregion crafts they could never have learnt without his help. At the mention of craft, Celebrimbor, of course, took immediate interest to this person. But he was no fool, for such things were too good to be true, and he eventually grew uneasy.

"How did you know I am the grandson of Feanor?" He asked the stranger.

Annatar chuckled darkly. "There is little that I do not know."

"I see you are new to these lands." Said Celebrimbor, pulling full intimidation into his voice until even Annatar moved a step back.

"I am, obviously." Annatar replied.

Celebrimbor raised an eyebrow. "Obviously?"

A few moments ago Annatar just boasted of the things he knew about, now he denied it all and said he was new to a land he knew so much about? If Annatar had a weakness, Celebrimbor was most certain it was pride; for even as they first met Annatar had been boasting about the knowledge he had for Ost-in-Edhil, he boasted about things even Celebrimbor (who had been dwelling for quite some time now in Ost-in-Edhil) did not know.

While Annatar's knowledge impressed the jewel smith to great lengths, it only made him more suspicious of the Lord of the Gifts.

"I see you do not trust me." Said Annatar.

"How did you know?"

"Obviously."

Celebrimbor grins. If there was one thing that could not be seen from Annatar's prideful exterior, it was that the Maia still had a sense of ironic humour. "If there is trust from me, it should be among my kinsmen and friends. It is foolish otherwise to trust a stranger and not my own."

"It is also foolish to decline an appealing offer waiting at your door." Annatar urged. "I would not have come if I did not lack the proper facilities and fellow workers. We could run a mutual benefiting collaboration, if you and the Elves of Eregion would yield."

"Are you saying we are to be your slaves? I do not think so."

"Not slaves." Annatar corrected him, "But equals."

Celebrimbor turned sideways, pondering. There was something to this stranger and made him felt magical, almost saintly; but Celebrimbor sense there was also something twisted in him, something that is dark, darker than the deepest mines of Khadaz-Dum.

"I turn down your offer." Celebrimbor said as last, after long moments of silence. "You may seek better luck somewhere."

He turns to the city and intending to leave Annatar standing at the door regardless whether the Maia would leave or not, but Annatar did not bulge an inch. Instead, he said:

"Don't you want to surpass the skills of your grandfather?"

Celebrimbor froze on his steps. Behind him Annatar grins in a most satisfying way, knowing he'd hit a sensitive spot. Celebrimbor's entire life had been on his crafting and smithing, spending his time with the forge more than his times with his bed. With so much effort used, if Celebrimbor was not the greatest craftsmen in all of Arda, he would better off not be one at all.

"You have no rights to compete my skills with that of Feanor." Said Celebrimbor darkly, his temper swelling up, which was rare. "He is dead, his work is history; whereas I still live and working to craft not only jewels but also history. Until I am dead, no one should say otherwise."

The vicious tone of Celebrimbor's voice intimidated not only himself, but also Annatar. The maia quickly move to a distance from the jewel smith without betraying his fear. Fear on Annatar, or Sauron the Dark, almost never happened, but this time it did, though it was there only for a few seconds. When he finally spoke, his tone was surprisingly calm. "But do you not wish to be the one responsible to wrought something far greater than the Simarils?"

Celebrimbor's brows meet between his squinting eyes. "How do you know about the Simarils?" He demanded. "Do you know where they are?"

"Not as much as you do." Annatar answered, taking the advantage to close up the space between Celebrimbor once more. "But it would please me to know so."

"Then I'm afraid I cannot help you on that, for the news interests me just as much."

Annatar sighs and put a hand on Celebrimbor's shoulder. "Let us not speak about the Simarils, for they are long gone, and had any creatures left on this earth still knows of its whereabouts, they would keep it themselves and hide it from view. The Simarils will not be heard from again."

Celebrimbor nodded, his simultaneous suspicion and trust in Annatar gradually becoming unstable. Unfortunately, it is the trust that is tipping the balance.

"We could make something greater than the Simarils." Annatar squeezes the shoulder of Celebrimbor. "You and I."

Celebrimbor stood idly, his face filled with uncertainty; Annatar took the advantage of Celebrimbor in his weaken state, filling his mind with more deceiving words. "We could remake legend, which soon it will abandon the history of the Simarils and forget Feanor was the greatest smith in Arda. There would be none left save Celebrimbor the Silver Fist and Annatar Lord of the Gifts. Our names shall be craft into the history of Arda and live on as a true legend amongst the people of Middle-Earth, and to be remembered until all is worn and broken."

"How do we know you will not betray us?" Celebrimbor looks up, on his face was the still the last trace of distrust.

_One last step._ Annatar thought, and held up a piece of yellowish-fading paper. Celebrimbor discern it was a contract, and as Annatar had expected, that last hint of distrust was gone. "An agreement. What more could you ask?" He said.

"I hope you are capable of keeping your word." Celebrimbor took the agreement and carefully pocketed it. "The moment you go back on your words, the collaboration will be dismissed, under no exceptional circumstances."

"Of course," Annatar laughed. "It would be foolish to think otherwise."

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**There will be a sequel involving the last meeting of Sauron (Annatar) and Celebrimbor, before he was tortured to death.**


End file.
